


Beyond the Door

by FireCharmer



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff but also pain, Gen, Loki and his mother - Freeform, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tony and his daughter - Freeform, Tony says Goodbye, kinda bittersweet, lotsa fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireCharmer/pseuds/FireCharmer
Summary: To save the universe, sometimes we must pay the ultimate price. One by one, Loki, Tony Stark, and Natasha Romanoff found that out the hard way.And one by one, they find themselves in the land of the dead, with a chance to ponder, and to say goodbye before they go completely beyond the door.
Relationships: Frigga | Freyja & Loki (Marvel), Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark
Kudos: 18





	Beyond the Door

Clouds swirled through the air, tendrils of mist lingering teasingly on the motionless figure's skin, before blowing away in another soft breeze. The ground was solid, but not hard...rather it seemed to curve around his body, allowing for the most comfortable position. A soft light streaked the air, blending with the clouds.

There was no pain, either...which was strange. Searching himself, he could not find even the slightest ache or discomfort. Even his mind and heart seemed at peace...there was nothing to be troubled about. Except....there was something important that had happened. But it couldn't have been that important. Nothing could be that important, it was too peaceful.

Was this what it felt like to be dead, Loki wondered. He supposed he was dead. He knew he was dead, though he didn't quite remember how.

The mist was drifting away now, and Loki slowly got to his feet, glancing down at himself. He was wearing simple, but clean clothing, green and white. He was in a large room, that, as the mist cleared, he could see was trimmed with black and gold. But not a harsh, evil black...a very soft color, welcoming, that somehow matched the gold perfectly. It was beautiful.

Cautiously, he turned in a circle, looking around him. The room was completely empty, except for a table in one corner, set with empty plates and elegant wine glasses, apparently for a dinner. There were only two seats at the table. On the other side of the room was a beautiful silver door, inlaid with gold. Light was shining around through the cracks, and Loki felt instinctively drawn to it. There was something amazing on the other side, something pure and lovely.

Something he didn't deserve. But wanted, so, so much.

Now he could feel emotion...guilt was sweeping through him. He didn't mind, really...it made him feel less empty. He turned away from the door, to the last side of the room. This wall, too, was clear...except for a large gold and black throne. And sitting on the throne...

"Greetings, Loki Laufeyson...brother." Hela said, her voice clear and disdainful. "Welcome to the realm of the dead."

The realm of the dead.

Memories suddenly poured into Loki's head, so quickly and fiercely it made him wince. Asgard dying in fire and brimstone. Thor standing before his lost and broken people, a king without a crown. Thanos...Thanos' ship, descending on the helpless Asgardians. And the tesseract...

Loki's knife flashing in his hand, in one, last desperate attempt to make things right again. The horrible feeling of helplessness as Thanos had slowly strangled the life out of him. Thor's muffled shouts for mercy. The world going black.

Gasping, Loki found himself back in the room, out of his memories, Hela watching him in amusement.

"It always takes them awhile to get used to it." she noted. The goddess of death was lounging casually on the jagged throne of black and gold, truly looking her name.

"Hela." Loki said, surprised by how steady his voice was. "I thought..."

"That I was dead?" There was a pause. "You're not wrong." she said finally. "But where could Surtur send him except back to my own realm? And so here I am again...though I certainly didn't expect to see you here."

Loki took a deep breath. "And where is...here?"

"The realm of the dead." Hela repeated.

Loki made a show of looking around him. "I seem to be your only subject."

"Well....realm of the dead is a bit of a stretch." Hela admitted. "Realm of the...no longer living. Those newly departed. Out of curiosity..." she added. "How did you die?"

"Thanos." Loki said flatly. He didn't particularly want to discuss it, especially with the sister he had just fought to save Asgard from.

"Hmm." Hela said, clearly not terribly interested. Probably one wasn't very interested in the affairs of the living once...well...you were the queen of the dead.

"So..."

"So what?" Hela asked.

"What happens now?" Loki asked, annoyed. "I'm dead. Everything I...I have no plan for this. I don't know what to do." he finished helplessly, nearly whispering.

Hela seemed unfazed by the uncharacteristic tremor in his voice. "Well...first of all, you should know that this is not the Realm of the Dead. That..." She nodded towards the door on the other side of the room. "That is where the dead go."

"What's behind it?" Loki asked curiously. Hela shrugged.

"Heaven. Hell. Purgatory. Hades. How should I know? I've never been there, and I don't intend to go anytime soon. Once you go beyond the door, you can never come back."

"You're saying that everyone who's ever died has passed through that door?" Loki asked, furrowing his brow. "Then why does this room exist at all?"

"Some people have unfinished business left in life." Hela said. "I can give them another chance...if they're meant to have one. Or a dream...you are permitted to visit the dreams of one person you left among the living. And sometimes, they're frightened."

"Frightened?" Loki said in disbelief. How could anyone be frightened here? Dejected, sure...he had just died after all. Annoyed that a sister you thought you had rid the world of was actually still in existence and was now in charge of your fate. But the peace that had taken over his mind when he had first arrived still lingered...fear seemed so foreign here, in this place of peace.

"Frightened to go alone to death." Hela said simply. "No one knows what's behind that door except those who are behind it...and some don't want to go alone. So they wait here, until someone else comes along...sometimes someone they know. So they can walk through the door together."

"I see." Loki murmured. He wasn't afraid..was he? But...going through that door...

He wasn't ready. He was dead...how was that supposed to work? He always had a plan, and if something went wrong, he could alter his course. It was what he did best. But he had just been jerked out of the world he knew how to manipulate...what was behind that door? Something beyond his control...

"Then...I'll wait." Loki said finally, resignedly. He didn't want to go alone....alone to death, alone to face the consequences of his admittedly not so perfect life. And he needed more time to think about his situation...he was dead. He had died. The words sounded so strange in his mind.

"There's no need." Hela informed him. "There's already someone waiting here for you."

Loki turned, confused. Who would have waited for him? "What?"

Hela merely looked past him, behind him. Towards the shadowy corner beyond the table, where Loki now realized a very familiar figure was standing.

"Loki." a voice said, and it was a voice he had sorely missed, a voice he had needed so badly he hadn't realized how much he had, a voice that comforted him and cradled him, and made me feel a child again. Frigga, the former queen of Asgard, stepped forward towards him, wearing a dress of light gold, a warm smile, a mother's smile on her lips.

"Mother..." he could say no more. The word cracked his voice and rendered him speechless. Fortunately, Frigga expected no words. Coming forward, she pulled her son into her embrace, and suddenly it didn't matter what had happened with Thanos, what had happened to Asgard...Loki was in a place of love and light...home.

"Mother..." he whispered again once he could trust his voice. "I'm so sorry..."

Frigga looked up at him in surprise, her warm blue eyes full of love. "For what?"

"It was my fault..." he murmured, the confession pouring out of him without the consent of his mind. "Kurse...I sent him up to you...I didn't think...I didn't..."

"Oh...my son..." her voice was so tender. "Have you been really been imagining that for this many years? None of it was your fault...I chose my death. I knew the risks."

"You left me." he whimpered, actually whimpered like a child.

"I waited for you." she said simply. "And I visited your dreams...just once. Surely, you remember?"

Loki did remember. The first night he had slept after Frigga's death...he had dreamed of her. It had just been memories, mostly, memories of his childhood, and Frigga being there, always there to help and to heal. He had woken in tears that morning.

"That was you?"

"Of course."

Loki stared at her. "Mother...what do I do?" he asked. "I didn't want...how am I supposed to leave? I wasn't ready..."

"None of us are." she said simply.

"But my death was so...pointless." Loki said bitterly. "I accomplished nothing, except to let the tesseract fall into Thanos' hands. I had a plan...I had so much more to do. I can't just leave..."

"Whether or not your death changed the course of fate doesn't matter." Frigga cut him off. "What matters is your life. You did so much in your life, Loki. Are you satisfied?"

"No!" Loki exploded, pulling away from her. Anger. Another emotion, filling the void inside him. "I could have done so much more! The entire universe is at stake, and now I must sit by while it crumbles. I want to go back, I want to fix this-"

"But you can't." Frigga interrupted again. "I asked whether you were satisfied with what you have done in your life. What could have happened cannot be helped, only what did happen. Are you satisfied?"

Loki stared at her helplessly, and then shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" she asked calmly.

"I made mistakes." He said slowly. "I...I can see them all now, every one. I was jealous, narrow-minded. I tried to make myself the center of the world, and then tried to destroy it when I did not succeed. And I could have fixed it all...I could have redeemed myself, I know I could have. But I didn't have time. Thor..." he spoke the name bitterly. "Thor knew. Thor was good, Thor was a warrior. He knew the difference between right and wrong, while I tried to convince myself that night was day and that I could control the stars. Thor was better, Thor was a king, Thor-"

"Thor is not you." Frigga reminded him. "Would you rather have been like Thor?"

"Yes." Loki said without hesitation. "Thor loved people, he loved the world above himself. I never did. Thor does not need to fear death...but I...Mother...I'm scared of what lies beyond that door for me."

She watched him intently. "No one expects you to be like Thor. The world wants you to be you...and somewhere in you, there is a Loki who is not evil. Just because Thor is good, and you are his opposite, does not make you evil, my son. Besides...wouldn't it be a dull world if we were all the same?"

"I did evil things." Loki said bitterly, refusing her comforting words. "I did terrible things. I lied, I manipulated...I killed without remorse or regret."

"Do you regret it now?" she asked quietly.

"Yes." Loki's voice trembled. "I would change it, if I could. But I suppose it's too late now."

Frigga smiled. "It's never too late."

He stared at her, confused. "You sound very hopeful for someone who does not know what's behind that door either."

"I don't know. But I believe. And I believe that whatever was in store for you beyond the door has changed."

Loki turned to look at the door, as if expecting to see a difference in its appearance. "I still can't go alone."

"Not many can." Frigga agreed.

"You waited for me." Loki said. "Five years."

"Yes." she said simply.

"For me, or for Thor?" he prodded.

She hesitated, her blue eyes searching his troubled green ones. "I love Thor, he is my son. I am glad he has grown to be such a good man, a loyal man, a hero. And my daughter...she has found her purpose." Hela did not look up from her throne as Frigga glanced towards her. "But they are both grown, independent. They have their own lives. You are my son, Loki, adopted or not, my youngest...my baby. You always needed me more than they ever did...and it's nice to be needed, as a mother. You need me....so I waited for you. And whenever you are ready to pass through that door...I'll come with you. My son."

He stared at her, joy and love mingled in his gaze. "Then I'm ready." he said quietly.

"Finally." Hela spoke, shifting in her throne. "Do you want to send a dream first? You have one chance."

Loki glanced back at his mother, who merely smiled. "Yes." he said finally.

"Let me guess. Our brother?"

"Yes."

"Very well." Hela said. "You can enter his dreams once. Time doesn't matter here...you can enter whenever he next sleeps right now. Go on."

Hesitantly, Loki closed his eyes.

And there, as simple as that, was Thor. Thor, looking worn and defeated in his battle scarred armor, his tattered cape. His missing eye had been replaced as well, Loki noticed. Whether this was because Thor saw himself with two eyes in his dreams, or had somehow managed to find another eye, Loki wasn't sure.

"Brother." Thor saw him, was approaching him. Loki remained where he was as he came. "I...where...this is a dream."

Loki didn't answer that. "You've found another eye."

"Oh...yes..." Thor said distractedly. "The rabbit found one for me."

Loki didn't know what to do with that sentence, so he let it slide. "Well...I've come to visit you." he said.

"Right. Sit down?" Thor said a little awkwardly. Loki would have laughed, but for Thor, this was nothing but a dream.

"No thank you." Loki said easily.

Thor blinked, as if seeing him in a new light. "Are you alive?" Hope suddenly filled his gaze. "Is that why you're in my head?"

"No." Loki said quietly. "You look...terrible, Thor." he said critically, changing the subject.

"Hmph. You'd think I could get better clothing in my own dream. Apparently not." Thor said. "Loki...I need you."

His words surprised Loki. "Need me? Why?"

"I don't know what to do." Thor said desperately. "You always know what to do. I can't think like you, brother, I can't plan. And now I'm stuck in space with a rabbit and a tree...I need you to help me figure this out."

Loki shook his head. "This is your head. Your adventure. You always liked adventures."

"Yes...when you were there. To support me. To plan for me. To make sure I didn't get eaten by a Bilgesnipe." Thor laughed bitterly. "I'm not sure how I'll manage without you ever popping out at just the right place, at just the right time ever again."

"You will." Loki said confidently. "You're a hero, you're an Avenger." he said, echoing Frigga's words. "Save the world. Smile and wave to the crowds. Smash some heads in."

"Without you there to make sure I don't smash the wrong heads?" Thor asked wryly.

"I'm sure you'll survive somehow." Loki answered dryly. Thor seemed to deflate.

"I suppose."

Loki could feel his time running out; Thor was beginning to fade. "Good luck, brother."

"And you." Thor said gravely. "Wherever you are..." he added wistfully. He thought he was dreaming, after all.

Loki withdrew back into Hela's throne room, where both his sister and his mother waited expectantly.

"Are you ready?" Hela asked him, and this time, he thought he heard something gentle in her voice. Possibly.

"Yes."

Frigga smiled at him, laying a hand on his arm. Loki stepped across the room towards the door, laying his hand on the doorknob. He opened it.

For a moment, mother and son were bathed in a glorious, beautiful light. And then they stepped through, together, without looking back. And the door closed...leaving the room empty.

Five years later

Clouds swirled through the air, tendrils of mist lingering teasingly on the motionless figure's skin, before blowing away in another soft breeze. The ground was solid, but not hard...rather it seemed to curve around her body, allowing for the most comfortable position. A soft light streaked the air, blending with the clouds.

There was no pain, either...which was strange. Searching herself, she could find not even the slightest ache or discomfort. Even her mind and heart seemed at peace...there was nothing to be troubled about. Except....there was something important that had happened. But it couldn't have been that important. Nothing could be that important, it was too peaceful.

Natasha Romanoff sat up and looked about her. She was in a rather small, cozy room, with soft mahogany colored walls, and a carpeted floor. The room was completely empty, except for a small, bare table in a corner, with two chairs.

Slowly, Natasha got to her feet, looking around her, confused, but not frightened. She was wearing a sort of soft flannel shirt, dark red, and pants of the same material and color. On the other side of the room was a door, lined with gold and red, light shining out of the cracks between it and the wall.

"Natalia Romanova." A cold, rather bored voice said. "Welcome to the realm of the dead."

Nat turned around. On the other wall, a woman sat in a comfortable looking chair, legs crossed. She had long black hair and dark, sunken eyes, and she wore a magnificent green robe.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked warily. What had happened?"

"My name is Hela, goddess of death. You've just died. Or so I should hope, there would be something wrong with my job if you haven't."

You've just died.

Everything came flashing back to Natasha. The journey to Vormir with Clint. The red ghost's ominous words....and then...she had jumped. The feeling of Clint's fingers slipping off of her hand as she pushed away from him. The strange, empty sensation of falling, falling...so far down...

She came back to herself, breathless. Hela was watching her in amusement.

"It's a little overwhelming at first." Hela mused.

"You're the queen of the dead." Natasha said.

"You could say that."

"What happened? To the rest of them?" Natasha asked desperately. "Did Clint get the stone? Everyone else...they got the rest of the Stones, didn't they?"

"How should I know?" Hela asked irritably.

"Where am I?"

Hela sighed the sigh of one used to long suffering. "In the realm of the dead. More accurately...not in the realm of the living. That.." she nodded to the door on the other side of the room. "That is the realm of the dead."

"What's behind the door?"

Hela shrugged. "I don't know. Once you go through it, you can never come back."

Natasha took a deep, shivering breath. So...she had died. She had done it. This had been her choice...to save the world. Why did she feel so empty?

And Clint...everyone she had just left behind. What were they thinking? Did they miss her? Did they approve of her decision? They had to, didn't they? This had been the only way, and they had all promised. Whatever it takes.

If only she could know that it had worked. Maybe the red ghost had been lying, and had killed Clint as soon as she had jumped. But then he'd be there with her, wouldn't he?

Frustration coursed through her. How could Hela claim not to know what had happened? She was the goddess of death, wasn't she? She must have some connection to the realm of the living!

"You can't see anything that's happening with...the living?" Natasha asked her.

"No."

"Then how can I find out?" Nat asked, trying to stay calm. "I...I need to know...I need to see..."

"You have one dream." Hela told her. "At whatever time you choose, you can enter the dreams of one of the living. Just once. And then, you can walk through the door, I suppose."

Natasha turned to face the glowing door. It was beautiful, and welcoming. Her soul was reaching out for it, yearning to enter, hungry for the glory and peace that radiated from it. But her mind was stopping her...she was...scared. What was behind that door?

"I...I don't want to go alone." she admitted. She hated the feeling of weakness it gave her. But what did it matter? She was dead now...and Hela probably didn't care in the slightest. Nat swallowed, trying to calm her racing mind, to hold back the tears that threatened. She just wanted to go...to be home...back with the Avengers, when things had been normal, when Clint's children had seen her as an aunt and a loved one, not a monster, when she had a family, a job that she loved. Before Thanos.

But that was what she had sacrificed herself for: so that they could all have what she wanted so badly. And she had been right, she knew she had been right. Better her than Clint, Clint who had a family, children he needed to see again, Clint with his laughter and love, Clint, who wasn't the monster she was.

"Not many do." Hela said in response to her words. "If you like, you can wait. Someone is bound to come through eventually, and you can go with them. Most people wait around for a while..."

"Ok." she said almost immediately. That was ok. She didn't have to make a decision now. She could just sit...and think. She had plenty of time to do that now....

She made her way across the room to the little table, and sat down. Slowly, she leaned back in the chair, pulling her braid over her shoulder, fingers winding around the end. Time to think....time to dream...

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Natasha?"

Natasha jerked back to consciousness. She hadn't known you could fall asleep after you were dead...but apparently you could. Or at least fall into a daze...

"Hey, Agent Romanoff." A familiar voice said. "You miss me?"

So familiar...Nat turned around.

Tony Stark was standing there, grinning roguishly at her, just like usual. Unlike the more ethereal clothing she was wearing, he was dressed as he always was, in a rumpled suit, dark blue at the moment, hands in his pockets, sunglasses hooked on his shirt.

Natasha stared at him for a moment, unable to comprehend what this meant. It was only when she spoke that she realized she was crying, relieved to see someone she knew, someone she loved. She let out a watery laugh. "Hey, Stark."

He smirked again, pulling out the seat opposite her. "What's new?"

She swallowed. "Nothing here. You...you're..."

He shrugged. "You know what they say. Never be afraid to try something new. I've gotta say, I'm a little disappointed. Its not much different than being alive."

Natasha laughed again, choking on her tears. She'd never thought she be so happy to hear Tony's voice, to hear his stupid wisecracks and see the hidden love and depth of emotion hidden behind his eyes. "Tony....did...did we win?" she asked finally.

His gaze softened. "Yeah." he said after a moment, cautiously, as if saying it out loud might change it. "Yeah...we did."

"You brought everyone back." she whispered.

"Yeah...and Thanos. From another time...that was a little screw-up. But...we got the Stones, and Bruce did the snap to bring everyone back...the bastard couldn't beat us twice."

"And you?" she asked softly.

He was quiet for a moment. "I snapped the gauntlet as well. I dusted away Thanos, and all his little minions. It was... a bit much for me. As you can probably tell."

"But...what about Pepper? Morgan?" she asked.

A flash of pain and sorrow passed over his face...but when he spoke, his voice was steady. "I'll miss them." he said quietly. "But I did it for them. Whatever it takes...we promised, remember? They'll be alright without me. I don't regret it." He looked up into her eyes. "What about you?"

"No." she said, a little raspily, but without hesitation. "No, I don't either. It was worth it. There isn't too high of a price...not for this."

"I know."

There was a silence.

"You know what, I'm hungry. I thought that wasn't supposed to be a problem after death. I'm very disappointed. You think they have a Burger King here?"

Natasha laughed, curling up in her seat, and then laughed harder as a cheeseburger suddenly appeared on the table, hot and seemingly just prepared. Tony looked up in surprise, and then grinned.

"There we go. That's more like it. You know what, Nat, we just need to look on the bright side. This'll be fun...moving Ouja boards, haunting Rogers for the rest of his life..."

"I don't think that's how it works." she said, smiling.

"Yeah, probably not. According to Her Majesty Queen of the Waiting Room of the Dead...we need to go through that door over there." he said, casually unwrapping the cheeseburger.

Natasha went still. "Yeah."

"You were waiting." he said quietly.

"Yes."

Tony took a bite of his burger, looking as at home as he had at his Tower, and then brushed the crumbs from his fingers, looking at her thoughtfully. "God...this...." he sighed. "This really make it feel...real. We're...dead."

"We get a dream." Natasha pressed on, not answering him. "We can visit the dreams of one person we left..."

"Yeah. That's a no-brainer for me, I need to give Morgan all the dad talks I'm going to miss out on in the future. Though I wish I could see Pepper again. Peter too. What about you?"

Natasha sighed, thinking. "Clint." she said finally.

"That's what I thought." He crumpled up the empty cheeseburger wrapper and tossed it at the corner, where a wastebasket had appeared.

Natasha watched. "I'm glad you're here, Tony. I mean...that sounds selfish. But I really am glad you're here."

"I'm glad I found you here." he said seriously. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'd face emo dead girl over there without a master assassin to back me up." He got up from the chair, glancing around the tiny room.

Natasha followed suit. "You ready to dream?"

He suddenly seemed nervous. "Now?"

"Why not?"

He didn't answer, he didn't need to. She knew why. She felt the same. It was something to look forward too, seeing their loved ones again. Once it was over...once it had ended...they had nothing to do but face the door.

Tony must have seen something in her face, for he approached then and hugged her. She hugged him back, her fear backing down just a little. This was comfortable, this was familiar. This was home.

Neither of them moved as they both closed their eyes and began to dream.

Clint had made it back home, Nat saw. Either that, or he was just dreaming about it. She was standing in the backyard of his house, near the copse of trees. The laughter of children was ringing in the air...and there, leaning against the porch railing, watching his children play...Clint.

Slowly, she approached him, her eyes hungrily drinking in everything she saw. Everything familiar. He turned as she got closer.

"Natasha?" his voice caught in his throat.

"Hey, Clint."

He stumbled towards her a few feet and then stopped, as if sensing that he couldn't truly reach her. "Nat...we...we won." 

"I know." she said simply.

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry....Tasha...I-"

"Don't." she interrupted him. "Don't do that to yourself, Clint. It's alright. It had to happen...you know it did."

"No, it didn't." he whispered, his voice full of grief. "I could have gone."

"You had more to live for than I did. I don't regret it...Clint.." she smiled wanly. "Don't waste your life mourning for me. Please."

He laughed bitterly. "Easy for you to say. You're nothing but a dream. You're....gone. Tasha...I miss you...I need you back..."

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she held them back. She missed him too. She wanted to go back for him...but she had paid her price for him to be happy...for the world to be happy. Whatever it takes.

"Do me a favor?" she asked finally. He looked up.

"Live for me." she told him. "Hug your kids every day for me. Give Sam a whack upside the head every once in a while, he needs it. Laugh for me. Love for me. I don't want there to be a sad, empty space where I was. Fill it up for me."

He stared at her, the pain in his eyes unbearable. "Okay. I promise."

She smiled at him. "It'll be ok." she said.

The dream faded away.

Tony stared around in admiration at the dream world his daughter had concocted. It was their house in the wood, but instead of trees, a gorgeous ocean spread out across the landscape. The water was rose pink, with a dock extending out over it, just like the lake near their house. There was something floating on the lake as well. Morgan was standing on the dock, watching it drift away.

"Morguna." Tony called out, approaching the dock.

Morgan turned towards him. Joy lit up her tiny, perfect features, and she ran to him. "Daddy!"

Maybe it was only in Morgan's dream. Maybe it's different for children, the innocents who don't quite understand death yet. But she ran to her father and hugged him, approached him, ran past a barrier that Thor and Clint had found impenetrable. Tony swallowed, embracing his daughter, the child he had dreamed of for so long, who he would never get to be with as she grew up.

"Oof...not so hard, Morguna. You're gonna squeeze this old man to death." Tony said, deciding to ignore that he was, in fact, already dead.

Morgan looked up at him, her little eyebrows scrunched together in a frown. "Are you coming back Daddy? For a long time again?"

Tony shook his head, heart breaking. "No. I've got to go. But I'll be watching you, princess."

She pouted, her little fingers pulling at his unruly hair, smoothing it out. "But I want you to stay. I miss you, Daddy."

"I miss you too. So, so much." Tony said, smiling as much as he could, for her sake.

Her eyes widened. "Then why won't you come back?" she asked sternly. Guilt and worry suddenly mingled in her expression. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, no." Tony assured her. How was he supposed to explain this? How could he tell his child that she would never see him alive again? "I just have to go...for a while."

Morgan squirmed in his arms, thinking. "You should come back. Mommy misses you too...she was crying. She said we have to be brave and happy while you were gone, cause that's what you wanted. And everyone was here at the house, Daddy, and they were all sad too. Mommy put flowers out on the water for you, see?" she said, pointing to the object drifting in the water. "I helped." she added proudly.

Tony glanced out at the endless ocean, where adrift on the water lay the wreath as Morgan remembered it, and dreamed it. A beautiful wreath of roses and lilies, with an arc reactor at the center...one he remembered. 'Proof that Tony Stark has a heart.' It said around the edge.

"They're beautiful." Tony told her, brushing her hair away from her face. "But I can't come back yet, honey. Not for a while. I'm sorry." He paused. "But Mommy's right. You have to be strong and brave for her, alright? Just like the fox in that movie we watched...what was it?"

"Robin Hood!" Morgan told him, indignant that he hadn't remembered. "He was very, very, very brave."

"Yes, he was. And you need to be brave too, and happy, for Mommy while I'm gone, okay? Can you do that?"

Morgan fidgeted again, thinking. And then nodded. "Okay."

Tony inhaled suddenly. He could feel himself drawing away. He wasn't ready yet! He wanted to stay...stay here by the endless rose gold ocean with Morgan...

"I have to go now, Morguna." he told her quietly. "Everything's gonna be okay though. I love you so much."

She smiled at him. "I love you 3000, Daddy."

"3000, yeah, I remember. I love you 3000 too, Morgan. And Mommy too...tell her that for me, okay?"

Her eyes lit up. "Can I tell her I saw you?"

Tony nodded, struggling to keep the tears from his eyes. He wouldn't let her last memory be of him crying. "Yeah, of course."

She pulled loose from him, and started running back towards the house. "Mommy!" she was calling. "Mommy, Mommy! Guess what?"

She stopped just before she got to the house, turning back to where Tony was watching her. "Bye, Daddy!" she called, waving. He waved back to her....but there was no time to speak. Already, he was being pulled away.

They opened their eyes.

They were both back in the little room, still in each other's arms. Tony blinked down at Nat, where a moment ago Morgan had been.

There were tears in her eyes too, he saw. But, just like him...she was smiling. Not joyously. But...content. It was alright now.

"You ready?" she asked him.

He drew away from her, looking towards the other side of the room at the glowing door. "Yeah."

She took his hand, and squeezed it tightly. He squeezed back, taking a deep breath.

She went first, leading him across the room, and gently opening the door.

For a moment, light shone through the door, illuminating them both, their silhouettes printed against the brilliant glow.

And then, still holding hands, they walked through the door together.


End file.
